Following Prown’s three-step method for object analysis, techno-fashion can be in- vestigated through a process of description, deduction, and speculation (ibid.: 7; see also Granata 2012: 71 and Steele 1998: 329-332). The phase of description concerns a substantial analysis that describes the physical dimensions, materials, and technical specifications; a content analysis (if applicable); and a formal analysis (ibid.: 7-8). The deduction stage involves an interpretation of the sensory, intellectual and emotional engagement with the object (ibid.: 8-9). During this stage of reflection, the researcher may also contemplate on what it would be like to wear the garment, and whether it would fit or be comfortable on the body (Mida and Kim 2015: 29). The speculation stage, finally, is where the analysis moves towards a self-reflexive and creative review of the information from the previous two stages in order to develop theories, hypotheses, and plans for further research (Prown 1982: 10).
Both the description and deduction phase require access to the physical and original artifact. For techno-fashion, this generally means paying a visit to an exhibition, fes- tival, fair, museum archive, or design studio in order to study the real-life object in de- tail. As many techno-fashion designs are still one-off and fragile prototypes, however, this might be challenging, problematic, or even impossible. In the case of Sensoree’s ‘AWE Goosebumps’, fortunately, I was able to observe the material, technical and formal characteristics of the design at two occasions: first at the ‘WEARABLE fashiontech fes- tival’ at Gaîte Lyrique in Paris (9-14 February 2016), and again at the ‘Mind the Step’ and ‘Manifestations: Will the Future Design Us’ exhibitions during the Dutch Design Week in Eindhoven (22-30 October 2016; 21-29 October 2017). In terms of material qualities, this design can be described as a two-piece outfit consisting of a smooth, close-fitting and shimmering silver-black skirt and bodice. The back and side panels of the top contain a series of laser-cut Kirigami (a variation of origami that includes cutting rather than solely folding as is the case with origami) that covers the inflatable silicone air pockets underneath the cut-outs [Figure 39]. A white 3D printed plastic container is placed in a
39. 40.
39. & 40. Sensoree, ‘AWE Goosebumps’ (2015) Kristin Neidlinger and Edwin Dertien. Photography by Elena Kulikova © Sensoree
large pocket on the lower back of the bodice, holding the battery and Arduino2 in place as well as forming the base from which the circuitry and transparent tubes for the air flow spring [Figure 40, 41].
During the second phase, the deduction phase, I got a firsthand idea of what the design can do and how (Steele 1998: 330). Although it was not possible to try on the garment, I could deduct information and knowledge from ‘AWE Goosebumps’ through sensory engagement by carefully touching its different components, having a close look at its materials, listening to the sounds it made and walking around the mannequin to ob- serve its different sides. Imagining what it would be like to wear this design, I focused on my subjective experience of how the garment felt, looked, how it smells, works, and sounds. In addition, I paused to reflect on how the design also invites emotional engagement. It was clear to me that the color and shape of the ‘AWE Goosebumps’ was changing in response to the environment, which urged me to try and trigger some changes in behavior. I tried to play and interact with the object by moving towards and around it, making a sound, and touching its surface. As the garment was only shown on a still mannequin, however, it was at this point impossible to figure out exactly how, when, and why the design would inflate or change color, although I could guess that it involved sensors based on my knowledge of the field of techno-fashion.
Studying the exhibition catalog marks the start of the third and final step in my object analysis: the speculation stage. According to Prown, this phase calls for a program of research in which information obtained from other sources external to the object is key (Prown 1982: 6). It was not until I consulted the contextual information in the catalog, that I learned that ‘AWE Goosebumps’ incorporates different types of biosensors to measure the galvanic skin response, breathing, and heart rate of the wearer. It now also became clear that the garment mimics the wearer’s breathing rate by changing the color of the illu- minated kirigami from blue (exhale) to teal (inhale), as well as animates and amplifies the wearer’s excitement through inflation and pink illumination of the air pockets on the back. This third stage in the object analysis, Valerie Steele explains, also entails “the framing of questions and hypotheses that then need to be tested against external evidence” (1998: 331). In the case of my object analysis of ‘AWE Goosebumps,’ this stage indeed informed my research question and hypothesis for this chapter because it made me wonder how techno-fashion transforms the materiality of fashion. The speculative character of this 2 Arduino is a project, computer hardware and software company, and user platform that designs and makes
stage in Prown’s methodology can be problematic, however, in that there is no clear way forward with the descriptive and sensory information that has been gathered from the dress artifact. Ingrid Mida and Alexandra Kim, therefore, propose an alternative step, which they name ‘Interpretation’ (2015: 31). The information acquired through observa- tion and sensory engagement, they argue, has to be synthesized with insights from fash- ion theory and personal experience (ibid.). This resonates with my own research meth- odology for this dissertation, which combines object analyses of techno-fashion with theoretical reflections and interview data on the experiences of designers and wearers. Prown’s three-step material culture approach offers a valuable and relevant methodolo- gy for studying techno-fashion because it directs the attention towards the materials and material aspects of designs and invites sensorial as well as emotional engagement with the designed object. Moreover, Prown’s observations on different categories of material culture are interesting because they include both the categories ‘adornment’ and ‘devic- es’ (1982: 12). Clothing, he argues, is a particularly rich and interesting topic for material culture studies because it serves both functional and aesthetic purposes, and has “a high correlation [to] personal identity and values” (ibid.: 13). By embodying the combination of function and style, clothing holds particular potential for cultural interpretation. He claims that device materials may also serve as cultural evidence because “most devices incorporate some decorative or aesthetic elements, and every device can be contem- plated as an art object (…) completely apart from utilitarian considerations” (ibid.: 15). This helps to see how even the most utilitarian artifacts have an aesthetic and artistic di- mension that, quite literally, provides rich material for material culture studies. There are, however, several problems with Prown’s theory and method for object analysis as well. Several crucial material dimensions of techno-fashion escape the material culture ap- proach as set out above. Reducing the concept of materiality to the static physical prop- erties of the object, it does not include an analysis of how different wearers or specta- tors interpret and respond to the color changes and inflations of ‘AWE Goosebumps,’ and vice versa (Interview KN 2017). In other words, Prown’s traditional approach to material culture does not help much in understanding how people relate to and interact with the materials and material capacities of the object in different contexts.
“While a focus on fashion’s materiality offers a seeming concreteness as there is “stuff” to analyze”, Sophie Woodward notes, it “also poses its own methodological challenges” (2016: 42). Exploring the material dimensions of fashion, she highlights, calls for “the ac- knowledgment of the relationship between materiality and humanity” (ibid.). On a similar
Sensoree
note, Heike Jenss argues that studying material culture should have methodological im- plications beyond object-based research or the examination of fashion as a static material ‘thing’ (2016: 21). In addition to an analysis of the object’s material qualities, Jenss asserts, studying material culture requires attention to material practices and relations: to “what people do with material things, what things do with people, and how they relate to each other” (ibid.: 21-22, my emphasis). In the following sections, I further develop the argument that techno-fashion demands a renewed or “reactionary” (Beaudry and Hicks 2010: 2) view of material culture that accounts for its material dynamics and relationality as well.